


[Drabble collection] I keep on searching for the way to your heart

by Frenchibi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Collection of tumblr drabbles, M/M, starting a new one because the old one is super old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: Collection of drabbles written from tumblr prompts!! Mostly probably iwaoi, gonna add more tags as I go along though!





	1. "Kiss against a locker"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!! I didn't wanna drag out my old collection (plus it already had like 20 chapters) so here's to a new beginning!! :D (I don't need new prompts yet ok I've got like 40 unfilled ones in my ask BUT if you do think of something specific you'd like me to write, my ask box on tumblr is always open ^^ frenchibi.tumblr.com/ask )

“So, Kunimi-chan, that’s why you always have to pay attention to whom you open the door for, or else you’ll end up having to go on a date with-”

“That’s it.”

Tooru’s mouth snaps shut, but he doesn’t turn around - the aura of Hajime’s annoyance is palpable even without seeing his expression.

“Uh. I was just joking, Iwa-”

He cuts himself off with a shriek, because he doesn’t expect Hajime to be close enough to grab him by the shoulder and spin him around, shoving him up against the row of lockers behind him.

“You,” Hajime breathes. The changing room is deadly silent - Yahaba is frozen with his shirt halfway over his head, knowing instinctively that now is not the moment to move. Kyoutani is standing like a deer in headlights a little further down the line of lockers, in full view of what’s happening. Even Mattsun and Makki are suspiciously quiet.

“You,” Hajime says, “need to learn when to shut up.”

“I’m-”

“God,” Hajime cuts in immediately, and Tooru shrinks back even further. “You’re fucking… infuriating, d’you know that? What’s it gonna take? Just. Two minutes of silence.”

Tooru opens his mouth-

And Hajime pushes right up into his space, and silences him with his lips.

If the room felt chilly before, it’s ice cold now. A needle, dropped here, would have sounded like an avalanche.

The spell is broken when Hajime pulls back, a tiny little crease between his eyes the only indication that he just took any kind of risk.

The second he detaches, Tooru’s legs give way. He slides down the locker until he’s squatting near the floor, and his face is beet red and practically steaming.

Hajime raises his eyebrows - and then he turns away.

“…if I’d known that would work, I’d have done it sooner.”

The room erupts into chaos.

-

(There’s a reason Yahaba confronts Kyoutani the way that he does in that last match. There’s a reason Kyoutani is so hot and bothered by it. There’s a reason Kindaichi can no longer look his vice-captain in the eye.)


	2. Drunk/Sloppy kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from my good friend Taera on tumblr, I got invested very quickly lmfao HERE YOU GO!!

When Hajime kisses him, it’s always infuriatingly gentle.

Honestly, most of the time, Tooru thrives on it. There’s something immensely satisfying about being the only one who gets to truly experience this side of him, the only one who gets the soft touches and loving words whispered underneath the sheets when the world is dark and cold around them. It’s like a gift, something precious that’s  _ his. _ Hajime has always, always made Tooru feel special - and this is only one of many reasons for it.

The thing is just… sometimes Tooru doesn’t want gentle.

Sometimes Tooru wants to be shoved up against a wall and taken apart. Sometimes he wants the scratch and bite and the thrill of not being in control.

It’s amazing, being treated like he’s the most valuable thing Hajime has ever held in his hands, like he’s a treasure, sacred, worshipped. But sometimes he wants to be broken.

It just seems Hajime is reluctant to indulge this particular need. So… measures have to be taken. Obviously.

These measures have included all manner of hints that seem to go over Hajime’s head - deliberately or unintentionally, it doesn’t really matter. So Tooru figures it’s time to give fate a little push in the right direction.

Which is why they’re currently at a bar. Under the premise of testing cocktails - for science. No, really - Kuroo has a blog. It’s all above board.

Except Tooru is counting on the fact that Hajime will underestimate froofy pink drinks and maybe let his guard down a little more. Maybe. Hopefully.

So far, it’s not going according to plan. Kuroo and Bokuto are having way too much fun, but Tooru is tense and watching Hajime way too closely - and Hajime himself is definitely aware that something is up. He keeps glancing over at Tooru and raising his eyebrows in unanswered questions, and he’s not drinking half as much as Tooru had hoped. Well, shit.

-

In the end, they bicker all the way home. In itself that’s not so strange - they argue a lot, but they always find a way to resolve matters. This time, though? It’s not like Tooru can tell him why he’s pissed. He’s failed, once again, and now Hajime won’t get off his back.

He’s the first one to enter their shared apartment, and he stomps through to the living room with little regard for where he tosses his shoes and jacket. Of course, Hajime is the one to stop and pick them up. Obviously. And he’s also the one trying to compromise.

“Why are you in such a bad mood? Hey! It was your idea to go out with them today!”

He ignores him, stalking over to the window to stand there with his arms crossed and stare angrily into the darkness. Great.

“Tooru. Hey.”

Tooru doesn’t turn around - he’s not ready to give in this easily. He sets his shoulders, and clenches his arms a little tighter.

“...what’s this really about?”

He exhales, a little more harshly than intended.

“...this is a bit of a problem,” Hajime says. Tooru can hear him sitting down on the couch behind him, but still refuses to turn. “Because if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you, how am I supposed to help fix it? You can’t expect me to read your mind - that’s not fair. I want this to work, I really do! But you’ve gotta talk to me, man.”

“...fine,” Tooru mumbles. What the hell. He’s not really getting out of this, is he? “But you can’t laugh.”

Hajime pauses, and Tooru can picture his eyebrows arching. “...why would I laugh? If it’s something that’s bothering you-”

“Because it’s stupid. Okay? It’s stupid.”

The energy is leaving him, and he’s tired of pouting. He concedes, turning to face his boyfriend and relaxing his posture.

Hajime’s expression is more concerned and less confused than Tooru pictured it - but he wastes no time at all to reach out to him and beckon him closer. Stupid, considerate, perfect Hajime. Tooru gives in, (naturally,) and sits down on the couch beside him.

“I guess… I was trying… I was hoping to get you a little more… relaxed.”

“...for what?” Hajime asks - opting for the problem-solving route rather than getting angry at the implication that he has no chill. Always the bigger man, god damn.

“Well… because… ugh.”

Tooru runs his hands over his face - he’s definitely not as sober as he thought he was, either. Damn cocktails.

“How do I… uh. Okay. Look. You’re… whenever you… when you kiss me, you’re always… I dunno, careful? And I love that, I do, it’s just… sometimes… sometimes I wish you’d… I don’t know. Mess up my hair and shove me against a wall or something.”

The last sentence is rushed out to avoid backtracking, and he can’t seem to look at Hajime as he says it, instead focusing on his hands in his lap.

There’s a moment of silence - and then Hajime snorts.

Affronted, Tooru’s head snaps up. “Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh-”

But Hajime is already one step ahead. He surges forward, grabbing Tooru roughly ( _ very _ roughly) by the collar and crashing their lips together. It’s hard and bruising and  _ perfect, _ and Tooru forgets how to breathe.

They break apart, and Hajime doesn’t hesitate for a single second - he shoves against Tooru’s chest, pushing him back into the cushions of their couch and following after, until he’s literally in Tooru’s lap.

“Haji-”

“Shut up,” Hajime all but  _ growls,  _ and if Tooru wasn’t fully aroused before, he definitely is now. He eagerly reciprocates Hajime’s kiss with a groan that’s surely too loud, and he can’t help how his entire body seems to buck upwards, chasing the sensation.

Hajime pulls them apart by grabbing a fist full of Tooru’s hair (holy  _ fuck _ ) and tugging, and Tooru almost moans, because  _ damn. _

“You dumb fucker,” Hajime says, eyes searching Tooru’s, but with an expression of immense satisfaction on his face. “You wanted this so badly, why didn’t you  _ say _ something? I thought I wasn’t allowed to mess with the hair.”

“Unfff,” Tooru gasps - immensely articulate.

“...but you just really wanna be pushed around, huh? You like that?”

“Iwa-”

“How about this. You don’t talk - unless I specifically ask you a question. You got that?”

Tooru nods, his back already arching with the need to be closer, to feel this, to be pushed and shoved and  _ loved. _

Hajime lets out an amused breath. “This is the opposite of a problem. Damn, Tooru, how long have you been thinking about this?”

It’s not an actual question - that much is clear, because right after he says it, Hajime captures Tooru’s mouth in another searing kiss. Even if it was a question, Tooru has no words to answer it - he keens under Hajime’s touches, and it’s all he can do to gasp for air between kisses.

“...I bet you,” Hajime breathes, “I can hold you up against the wall and make you come without your feet touching the ground.”

Tooru can only groan - the thought alone has him dangerously close to spilling in his pants. This might actually be more than he can handle.

“Or-” Hajime pulls away, just enough to make Tooru’s struggling futile \- “maybe I’ll just ride you. Think you’d like that?”

Tooru gasps, helpless,  _ hopeless, _ and Hajime responds with a breathless laugh.

“If I’d known it was this easy to shut you up, I’d have done it way sooner.”

Tooru whines, and stammers something along the lines of “you’re unfair” before Hajime relents, bringing their lips back together. This kiss is sloppy and hurried and  _ perfect,  _ and it leaves both of them winded and breathing heavily.

“...fuck,” Tooru manages, and Hajime laughs.

“...so you wanted to get me  _ drunk?” _

Tooru groans, embarrassment seeping in.

“It didn’t seem as stupid as it sounds!”

“Things rarely do. But - and I thought this was clear - you could really have just asked me to be… rougher.” He pushes himself back as he speaks, allowing Tooru a little room to sit up again.

“Not- it’s not the only thing I want!”

Hajime raises his eyebrows, and Tooru hears how it sounds right after he’s said it.

“Ah - I didn’t mean- stop  _ laughing! _ I just - I like it when you’re soft! Just… sometimes I need you to…”

“To wreck you?” He’s still smirking, eyes glinting with mirth - and he hasn’t let go of Tooru’s arm.

“M-maybe.”

“That’s a definite yes. God, you’re such a princess sometimes.”

“What? No I’m not!”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “You totally are, your majesty. Now c’mon - we should take this to the bedroom, where I don’t have to worry about hurting your dainty little back.”

Tooru groans. “I knew you were gonna make fun of me, I knew it!”

“Obviously. But I’m also gonna blow your mind,  _ princess.  _ Trust me, you’re not ready for this.”

He’s not wrong - Tooru’s legs feel like jelly as he lets Hajime pull him to his feet. But maybe that’s the best part.

“Bring it on.”


	3. it all comes down to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no particular prompt this time - just a sappy drabble. it's christmas after all!

Hajime wakes softly, his eyes opening and smoothly bringing him back to reality. He’s not sure what woke him - not a noise, surely, or the shifting of the body on the mattress beside him, because everything, even the air, is still, save for the gentle sound of breathing.

The bedside lamp is on, shedding light on the bent-over silhouette beside him, glasses perched low on his nose, face practically buried in the book on his lap.

There’s a nagging reprimand rising in his throat - Tooru knows better than to ruin his back and his eyesight by reading this way - but he’s distracted before he can voice it.

Tooru has one hand on the page he’s reading, holding it open - and the other is, actually, buried in Hajime’s hair. His fingers are idly running through the spiky strands at the base of Hajime’s neck, tracing and retracing some unknown pattern.

The movement is unconscious, warm and familiar, and it makes Hajime’s chest go tight with immediate, intense affection - so much so that he feels himself almost choking.

He understands, now, how he got comfortable enough to fall asleep like this after his exhausting day, with Tooru’s light touch making him feel safe. He had been planning to wait up, to maybe still talk about their days, but his fatigue had betrayed him. And Tooru, for all his bravado and pride, would always put Hajime first. He’s the one who makes sure that Hajime gets enough rest, too, and that he doesn’t overwork himself.

This is by no means a new revelation, but somehow, right then, it hits Hajime like an avalanche, ripping out the very ground from under his feet. Hajime gasps, before he can stop himself, and Tooru glances up from his book.

“Oh, sorry to wake- Iwa-chan?”

His casual tone morphs into concerned in less than a second, and Hajime takes a moment to understand why, before he feels the wetness on his cheeks.

“Oh-”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Toou puts his book aside immediately and pulls back his arm, turning to face him, and Hajime drags his hands over his face in an attempt to stop the tears.

“It’s- I’m fine, sorry-”

He chuckles weakly, trying to reassure him, but the frown on Tooru’s forehead only grows deeper.

“...Hajime?”

“It’s fine, really! I don’t- I don’t know why I’m- it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m just-”

Tooru catches one of his arms, concern and incomprehension all over his face, and Hajime reaches up to cover his hand with his own, giving it a squeeze.

“Wh- what are you reading?” he asks, exhaling in an effort to calm himself.

Tooru’s gaze lingers, but then he reaches to lift the book and show Hajime the title.

“Ah,” Hajime says, recognizing it from a recommendation Tooru mentioned last week - was it Kuroo, or Akaashi? “How is it?”

Tooru cracks a small smile. “Just as promised. Lots of laser guns and space travel.”

“...and aliens?”

“Of course.”

Hajime laughs a little, brushing away the last of his tears. It’s strange - they don’t feel heavy, or sad, or anything like that, they just sort of happened.

Tooru leans in a little closer, and Hajime can almost see himself reflected in his glasses. He reaches up to pull them off, and Tooru makes a little surprised noise, like he’d forgotten they were there in the first place.

“Oh. Thanks.”

He places them on top of the book, leaning over to switch off the light.

“Oh, you don’t have to- You can keep reading!”

Tooru shakes his head into the new darkness as he pulls back the covers and slides underneath beside him. It takes him mere seconds to adjust himself, reaching for Hajime with the confidence and immediacy that comes with habit. Hajime gratefully lets himself be pulled in closer, until their foreheads touch and Tooru slides their hands together between their chests.

“...bad dream?” Tooru asks, voice soft.

Hajime chuckles, breathless. “Huh? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’m fine, really.”

“...you sure?”

Hajime tips his head, briefly catching Tooru’s lips with his own. “I promise. I’d tell you if it wasn’t. Honestly, I don’t know why I- I just kind of looked at you and… I dunno. I think I’m… really lucky.”

It’s not a grand speech, and it doesn’t really explain much, but he can feel Tooru deflating a little, with relief overtaking worry.

“Oh,” Tooru says, and Hajime muffles a snort.

“So weird,” he says. “Guess I’m more emotional when I’m tired.” Or when I realize I want to wake up beside you for the rest of my life.

“You’re always a sap,” Tooru decides, poking Hajime’s cheek lightly with his nose, “but you’ve usually got more control over it. When you’re not half asleep.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

It’s Tooru’s turn to laugh. “No way. I like emotional Iwa-chan. And grumpy Iwa-chan. And… well. Any Iwa-chan, really.”   
“Aw.”

“Protective Iwa-chan. Smiley Iwa-chan. Jealous Iwa-”

“Hey! I’m not-”   
“Don’t lie to yourself. You’re super possessive and it’s adorable. And very flattering.”

Hajime knows he’s pouting now, but he can’t help it.

“...so maybe I don’t like sharing you.”

Tooru grins, and his fingers dig into Hajime’s hands. “Good thing you don’t have to. I don’t wanna share my Iwa-chan with anyone, either.”

Hajime exhales, feeling some unknown pressure lift from his chest. It’s not like he’d been doubting their commitment to each other, but sometimes… sometimes it’s just nice to hear that Tooru feels the same way.

“...hey, Oikawa?”

“Mmh?”

He’s not sure what makes him say it - a combination of the mood, probably, and his own sappy mindset, and the realisation that he’ll never want anyone else - in any case, he says it, and the full weight of his own words only hits him once he hears them out loud.

“...have you… have you ever thought about getting married?”

Tooru’s breathing goes shallow, and Hajime’s heart plunges into his stomach. He bites his lip to stop himself from fumbling - this is new and kind of terrifying territory, and he doesn’t want to run his mouth just yet.

Eventually, Tooru whispers: “...in general? Or…”

“Yeah,” Hajime says, searching for his face in the darkness, trying to discern his expression.

“I’m… I used to imagine it, when I was little,” Tooru says. “Some girl in a white dress, like you’d see in the movies.” He takes a breath, a little pause. “...nowadays, when I think about it, I… I only think of you.”

Hajime laughs, breathless with relief. “Me, too. I… I don’t want anything else.”

Tooru dips his head to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“...no blushing bride?” he murmurs into the tiny space between them.

“...you’re prettier anyway,” Hajime mumbles back, and this time he feels Tooru’s grin against his lips.

“...so you’re saying you wanna marry me?”

Hajime isn’t sure how to deal with this, but humor feels like the safest bet, for now. It’s too soon to make this decision - they’re young, they have time - but he knows his mind won’t change, not in a million years. “Only if you’re not gonna act all smug about it.”

“...says the guy who started  _ crying  _ about how lucky he is to be with me…?”

Oh, Tooru, perfect, wonderful Tooru - of course he understands, and goes along without batting an eye.

Hajime squeezes his hands, holding back a laugh. “You can’t prove that.”

“Oh, that’s playing dirty.”   
“Maybe, but who’re you gonna complain to?”

Now it’s Tooru’s turn to pout. “Your mom,” he says, “cause she likes me better, anyway.”

“She won’t stab me in the back like that,” Hajime says, though he’s not entirely certain.

“Mine would. ‘specially if you became her son-in-law. She’s crazy about you.”

Hajime considers this for a moment.

“Maybe, but she’s not who matters.”

Tooru muffles a chuckle, pressing their foreheads together.

“...well. I would- I’d love to marry you.”

Hajime’s heart feels almost too full.

“...okay,” he says, with new resolve. “Then… I’ll ask you for real someday.”

Tooru nods, ever so slightly, with his eyes fluttering closed.

“It’s a promise, Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah. It better be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: "make hajime cry 2k18"  
> also me: literally cannot write anything sad so there will only be Happy Tears here


End file.
